


postdrome

by figmentalities



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Sickfic, it ends with a lot of sickening fluff for all your fluffy eremin needs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 07:32:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19786174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figmentalities/pseuds/figmentalities
Summary: Armin has been diagnosed with chronic migraines. Eren awakes one night to find him in the middle of a severe attack. Thankfully, the two of them have settled into a kind of routine they follow every time this happens.





	postdrome

Eren isn’t sure why he’s awake. Through the fog in his mind he clings to the inexplicable excitement still coursing through his veins, the rapidly fading remains of some dream he’s already forgotten. Frustrated that he can’t remember the source of the feeling and irritated that he’d been roused from it, he runs his hands over his face and groans. 

“Goddamn,” he murmurs to himself before turning over, hugging the blankets to his chest in the hopes of settling back into the depths of sleep. He instinctively reaches out for Armin, for the warmth of his boyfriend’s body curled up next to him in the bed. It isn’t until his hand finds only the wrinkled texture of vacant sheets beneath it that he realizes what had awakened him in the first place: a harsh _thud_ across the room. 

“Armin?” Alarmed now, Eren tries to blink away his groggy stupor and pushes himself to a seated position. He squints into the darkness. “Armin?” 

He doesn’t receive a response right away. For a second he convinces himself Armin has simply gone to the bathroom. His theory is debunked, however, when he hears a sharp intake of breath off near the far wall. “I didn’t mean to…wake you.” 

Armin’s voice is quiet, more a groan than a whisper, and as Eren’s eyes adjust to the faint indigo hue the moonlight has draped over the room, he sees him. Armin. Slumped at the foot of the dresser and leaning heavily against it for support. 

“Whoa… _hey._ ” Sleep completely forgotten, Eren launches himself from the bed in a flurry of tossed blankets and flailing limbs. He nearly trips over himself in the darkness before dropping to his knees at Armin’s side. “Hey, Babe, what happened? Are you hurt? Did you…faint or something?” 

Armin’s eyes are closed, his face screwed up into a wince, but he’s conscious at least. Eren reaches out to inspect him, to search for any possible injuries. His hands drift over Armin quickly, fingers worrying at his arms, shoulders, hooking under Armin’s chin to tilt his face toward his own and dropping the moment Armin groans against the movement.

“Are you okay?”

“Um. I got dizzy. The dresser caught me,” Armin murmurs. Much to Eren’s bafflement, his mouth curves into a half-hearted smile at his own joke. He cracks an eye open, then squeezes it shut again. “I was…I was trying to get the Maxalt.”

Despite himself, Eren heaves a sigh of relief. One of Armin’s migraines. He knows how to handle those. Though it hurts more than anything to know Armin’s in so much pain, he can’t help but relax knowing it isn’t a serious medical emergency. 

“Oh, Babe.” Eren’s voice is gentle now as he reaches forward and threads his fingers through the soft strands at Armin’s hairline. In the moonlight, he can see the tears gathering at the edges of Armin’s closed eyes, and he has the sudden urge to wipe them away with his lips. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?” 

Armin moves his head slightly, a feeble attempt to shake it. “My shoulder might bruise,” he admits. “But that’s nothing. Not compared to…” He trails off, voice breaking, and Eren can see the muscles in his jaw working overtime. 

Eren knows Armin can’t see him, but he nods in understanding anyway. “One to ten? No downplaying like last time?” 

“Two.”

“Armin.” 

Armin makes a pathetic attempt at a smile, but it disappears quickly. “Eight.” 

“Shit. _Babe._ ” Hissing sharply through his teeth, Eren combs his fingers through Armin’s hair, gently stroking his ear with his thumb. “You think the Maxalt will be enough for this one?” 

“Hopefully.” Armin sucks a deep, shaking breath through his nose. “That and…ice. And sleep. Hopefully.” 

Eren bites down on his bottom lip. He wants so badly to trust Armin’s judgement. “You remember our agreement, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Nine and we go to the hospital.”

Armin hums, then tilts his head back to rest it against the dresser drawer. It’s only now that Eren sees just how pale he is—the color in his lips has drained completely, blending with the worrisome pallor seeping into the rest of his face. Eren leans forward and gently kisses his forehead. 

“Okay. Okay, Armin. I got this. But I have to use my phone light to see, okay?” 

Armin hums again. This time it sounds closer to a whimper than anything else. “Okay,” he whispers. 

Careful not to jostle Armin as he pulls away, Eren stumbles over to the nightstand beside their bed and grabs his phone, adjusting the brightness to its lowest setting. Then, darkening the screen, he slowly makes his way back to Armin on all fours.

 _If Armin’s eyes were open, he’d probably laugh at this spectacle_ , Eren thinks, and he tries to ignore the dull pang in his chest that accompanies the thought. It’s at times like these, when Armin is miserable and in severe pain, that Eren aches to hear him laugh the most. 

“It might still be bright through your eyelids. I’m so sorry. I just need it on long enough to get the meds and see what I’m doing, and—” 

“Eren.” Armin’s hand gropes for him momentarily, settling onto his wrist and giving it a light squeeze. “It’s fine. Thank you.” 

Nodding, Eren unlocks his phone screen again and physically fights the urge to immediately turn it off when the grip on his wrist tightens. One glance at Armin’s face, visibly resisting another grimace, tells him everything he needs. “I’ll make this quick.” 

Angling the phone on the floor away from Armin, Eren scoots over to the other side of the dresser and reaches for the very thing he knows his boyfriend had been trying to get to before the dizzy spell struck him: three boxes Eren refers to infamously as _The Pharmacy_. He works as quickly as he can, sifting through Armin’s vitamin supplements and precautionary cold medicines inside the top one before his fingers find the plastic of the prescription bag folded neatly in the corner. 

“Just a few more seconds,” he says as he reaches in and rips off one of the dose squares. He works his fingernail under the adhesive, struggles a little to pull it away from the plastic, and heaves an audible sigh of relief when he finally unveils the little round pill inside. 

Eren cuts off the phone screen. “Got it.” 

Armin holds out his hand for the medication, and Eren watches intently as he slips the dissolvable tablet onto his tongue and grimaces at the taste. “Yum.” 

Eren smiles a little. “Good job, Love. Step one down.” 

Armin’s mouth works to break down the pill as quickly as possible. The expression of disgust on his face etches deep lines into his fair features. “What’s step two?” 

“Getting you back to bed.”

Armin hesitates. “Right.” 

“Do you think you can walk?” Eren asks.

“Yeah. Maybe. I’m just…moving is…” Armin runs his tongue over his lips and gives a violent shudder. “Fuck,” he whispers. “I never get used to this.” 

“I’m sorry it tastes so bad.” 

“It gives me _chills_.” 

“I know.” Leaning forward, Eren carefully works his arm underneath Armin’s back and finds a secure grip around his trim waist. “You’ll be in bed soon. We just gotta get you there so you can lie down and sleep, okay?”

Armin inhales sharply. His lips part, as though a protest sits at the edge of his tongue, but he says nothing. Instead, he pulls his eyelids open and squints a silent plea in Eren’s direction. It makes Eren’s chest physically hurt. 

“Yes please,” Armin whispers finally. 

Easing Armin slowly to his feet is the easy part, Eren soon realizes. Keeping him on his feet, on the other hand—not to mention getting him to step forward—is the real challenge. Armin releases a horrible groan, and Eren pulls him closer when he feels just how fiercely Armin’s clinging to him for support. His grip only tightens when he feels Armin begin swaying. For a moment the fear strikes him that Armin’s legs might give out underneath him and he’ll fall. Or that he really will pass out. It’s never happened before; he tries to remind himself. But there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? 

Instead, Armin just leans heavily against him, his breathing coming out in harsh gasps. His fingers dig painfully into Eren’s shoulder.

“Armin?” 

“Hurts.” Armin’s whisper is so quiet this time, Eren barely hears it. “Everything’s spinning. So badly.” 

“Do you need to throw up?”

“I need to…lie down.” 

“We’re on our way,” Eren says. He wants to pick Armin up, wants to scoop him into his arms and carry him the rest of the way to bed, but he knows if he does it’ll only jostle Armin’s head and hurt him more. He chews on his lip again. “But just say the word and we’ll get you to the bathroom, okay?”

Armin gives Eren’s shoulder a squeeze in response. It’s all the confirmation Eren needs to finally begin walking. The distance to the bed isn’t a long one, but their trip is grueling all the same. Eren keeps his arm wrapped snug around Armin’s ribs and thanks the universe with no small amount of relief that Armin is smaller than him. It makes it far easier for Eren to bear most of the weight as Armin puts all his concentration on keeping himself upright. It completely shatters Eren’s heart to see him struggle like this. 

He knows it’s only temporary. They just need to get Armin into the bed, and he will eventually be okay. But he also knows it will happen again, maybe in three days, maybe a week from now, maybe a month. 

He just wishes he could take Armin’s pain away permanently. 

“I’m sorry,” Armin murmurs again as they reach the bed.

“Please don’t be,” Eren insists. He places a firm kiss to Armin’s temple as he flings the blankets and sheets aside with his free hand. “This isn’t your fault, remember? You have no control over this.” 

“I wish I did.” 

“I know.” Eren waits until Armin crawls gingerly into the bed before releasing him fully. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” 

Armin nods a little, and Eren hears the audible sigh he releases the moment he rests his head back against the pillow. Eren sighs as well, then turns to find his way out of the room and toward the kitchen. 

He makes quick of his work, first retrieving the ice pack from the freezer and wrapping it in the pillowcase they use to buffer the biting chill, and then filling up a fresh glass of water. He returns to the bedroom with both to find Armin pulling at the sheets and stirring restlessly. 

“Hey, hey.” Eren places the glass onto the nightstand before rushing to Armin’s side of the bed. “You’re supposed to keep still.” 

“I know,” Armin grunts through clenched teeth. He digs his fingers into the blankets underneath him and groans again. “It just…I feel like it’s going to explode, and the only way to stop it is—” 

“To hit it against the wall,” Eren finishes for him, fighting the knot that tightens in his throat. This isn’t the first time he’s been introduced to the ways in which Armin’s migraines develop cluster headache-like symptoms: the restlessness, the uncontrollable urge to smash one’s head directly into the nearest hard surface. Still, it doesn’t help him feel any better about it. “But that won’t actually help.” 

“ _I know_.” Armin gasps. His voice quiets down to a whimper again as he attempts to hold himself still. The tears that were forming at the corners of his eyes now slip down over his temples and into his hairline. “I just…I wish it would. I wish…I wish I didn’t…” 

Eren leans forward and presses his lips to the soft fringe that falls over Armin’s forehead. He holds himself there as he speaks. “I’ve got you,” he mutters, smiling a little as the strands of Armin’s hair brush against his nose in the wake of his breath. He pulls away. “I’ve also got something _for_ you.” 

Armin glances up at him, then hums in encouragement when Eren gently places the ice pack over his brow. He slowly unfurls the fingers of one hand from the sheets and tugs the pack down over his eyes. It doesn’t soothe the grimace from his features entirely, but Eren can tell it helps. Armin’s muscles are taut, tightly coiled and bracing against the pain. Eren watches his shoulders relax a little. 

“Thank you,” Armin whispers. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Eren’s mouth. “Of course, Love,” he says. “I’m gonna climb in too now, okay?” 

Armin gives him a feeble thumbs-up. Eren makes his way onto the bed, his movements meticulously slow, before settling beside his boyfriend. 

“How can I help now?” he whispers. “Distance? Water? Scalp massage?” 

Armin hums again. “Massage sounds perfect,” he whispers back. 

“Of course.” Inching his way closer, Eren props himself up on one elbow and uses the same hand to rake his fingers through Armin hair. He earns a soft moan in response, urging him to continue kneading little circles into Armin’s head with the pads of his fingers. He pauses every few moments to glide his nails gently along Armin’s scalp. With his free arm, he reaches for the hand Armin still uses to clutch at the sheets. He gently goads Armin’s fingers loose with his own, twining them together until Armin gives his hand a soft squeeze. 

“When can you get your next injection?” Eren asks. 

Armin huffs out a breath. His pretty nose peeks out from underneath the ice pack, and Eren has the urge to lean over and kiss it. “Tuesday.” 

“You should be able to do it more than once a month,” Eren mutters. “They get bad like this again every time you’re due for it.” 

“I know. But, still, they…” Armin reaches up with his free hand and presses the ice pack more firmly against his eyes. “They still help a lot.” 

“Yeah.” Eren lets his fingers scratch softly at Armin’s head, combing through his hair. Each moment, it seems Armin relaxes just a little more. “Try to sleep now, okay?” 

He feels Armin give his hand another firm squeeze. “I love you so much,” he whispers.

A familiar, pleasant warmth spreads from Eren’s chest and into his limbs, causing him to shiver a little. That feeling of being appreciated, wanted, maybe even needed. It isn’t something he thought he’d find before, not like this. To have found this kind of love with his _best friend_ of all people only makes it that much more profound to him.

Easing himself down, he rests his head against his upper arm as he continues to work his fingers through Armin’s hair, letting himself relax into the mattress when Armin’s breathing begins to even out.

“I love you too,” he whispers back. 

**

It’s morning when Armin finally peels himself from the pillow. He grimaces a little when he runs his hand over the fabric, damp with the condensation of the thawed ice pack. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. It had been dark outside the last time he’d closed his eyes. As he wakes now, however, bright light seeps through the window blinds and casts golden beams stretching across the folds of the bedspread and along the far wall. 

Armin pushes the ice pack off the side of the bed and turns his pillow over onto the dry side before settling back into the plush material. He rakes a hand through his hair, sighing when he realizes his migraine has pretty much all but diminished completely. What remains is the familiar fog that comes afterward, the hazy confusion and vague feeling of unreality, the hypersensitivity in every nerve ending in his body. 

It’s exhausting. He’s exhausted. But there’s a kind of euphoria that goes along with the sudden relief from the pain, and it’s this that sends Armin laughing a little. He stretches out his limbs, cracks his knees and ankles and lifts his arms high above his head. 

Eren grows hypervigilant when he knows Armin’s ill, so it doesn’t surprise Armin now when Eren, usually such a heavy sleeper, stirs at the sudden movement. Armin watches him turn toward him, watches as Eren’s eyelids open a little and fight to blink against their sleep-laden weight. Armin loves those green eyes—striking, somehow fierce and gentle all at once and framed by thick, dark brows that only seem to make them _that much_ hotter. Even now, Armin finds his heart rate quickening as they meet his and grow wide.

“Hey. _Hey,_ Babe.” Eren croaks, hoarse with sleep as he tries pushing himself up on his elbow and reaches for Armin. He places the palm of his hand gently against Armin’s cheek, scratches soothingly at the side of his head. Armin leans into the touch and cracks a smile at the bedhead sending Eren’s already unruly hair askew. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “How are you feeling?” 

Armin turns himself onto his side until he faces Eren, finding his extra pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Alive,” he exhales. “And glad it’s the weekend.”

“No migraine?” 

“Just the after-effects.”

“Mm. Right. Shit, I forget about those.” Eren leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Armin’s lips. Armin melts into the sleep-induced heat that radiates off his skin. Eren brushes his nose lightly against Armin’s as he pulls away. “But no pain?”

Scrunching up his nose as he smiles, Armin shakes his head. “I think we’re through the thick of it.” 

“Thank _god_.” Eren releases a heavy breath that jostles Armin’s hair, then flops himself onto his back. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “That was a _bad_ one.” 

“I…I know.” 

“No, Armin, seriously. You really worried me. I _really_ thought we might have to go to the hospital this time.” Eren lowers his hands from his face and blinks up at Armin, brow furrowed. He looks so incredibly concerned, and Armin’s suddenly torn between feeling guilty for causing Eren so much emotional distress and happy to have found someone who loves him _this_ fucking much.

“I’m so sorry,” Armin says. He scoots himself forward until he’s breathing in Eren’s warmth. “I’m sorry I woke you, that you have to deal with this so often, that I worried you—”

“If you apologize one more time, I’m gonna cancel our sushi date tomorrow night.”

“ _No_.” Armin lets the word drag out dramatically. He finds the fabric of Eren’s shirt and pulls him closer. “You wouldn’t.”

Eren chuckles, then turns toward Armin and folds him into a hug. Armin settles into the warmth, rests his forehead against Eren’s sternum.

“Thank you, then,” Armin continues, and presses a little kiss to Eren’s chest. He hums a little when he feels Eren’s heart beating against his lips. For some reason, this causes a sudden, overwhelming protectiveness to wash over Armin, and he wraps his own arms around Eren and squeezes him. “Thank you for taking care of me. For helping me and loving me and putting up with all this.”

“You literally put up with every insufferable thing about me.” Eren tightens his own hold around Armin’s shoulders. Armin feels him kiss the top of his head. “I think I can repay you for this one thing.”

“You’re not insufferable.”

“That’s a lie. But thank you.” Eren laughs, lowering his head until his face presses against Armin’s neck. Armin tries to suppress the giggle that bubbles behind his lips when he feels Eren’s eyelashes flutter against his skin.

“Seriously, though,” Eren adds. His voice is muffled against Armin’s shoulder, and the heat of his breath elicits a small shiver that Armin hopes Eren notices. “If anyone deserves an apology here, it isn’t me. I’m so sorry you have to go through those.”

“It’s kind of…I mean…” Armin struggles to find the words now, but he isn’t sure if it’s because of the postdrome fog or the fact that he’s beginning to lose himself in the heat of Eren’s body against his. Perhaps it’s both. Perhaps he doesn’t care either way. “I’m kind of used to it by now. I kind of have to be. Been ten years, you know?”

Eren groans. “You realize that makes you the fucking strongest person I know, right?” Armin feels Eren’s grip on him slacken, relaxing into their embrace. He keeps his nose pressed firmly against Armin’s neck as he continues. “Dealing with that kind of pain so regularly. Putting up with how badly those injection pens hurt you and being able to give them to yourself anyway. You’re…incredible.” 

Armin feels his chest constrict. This isn’t the first time Eren’s said these kinds of things to him, and he knows Eren means every word. Armin feels himself torn again, this time between wanting to lean into the sinking feeling that tells him none of it is true and pushing Eren back onto the bed and kissing him until neither of them can breathe, until he forgets about the muddied thoughts at the back of his head constantly whispering that he isn’t good enough. That he doesn’t deserve this.

He deserves this. He deserves to relish in this moment, especially after the night he’s had. He deserves to be happy. He deserves Eren.

“It’s hard to believe that sometimes,” he admits, speaking into Eren’s hair.

“I know, Love.”

“But…you’re right.” Armin rubs his thumb gently over Eren’s shoulder blade. He runs the flat of his palms over Eren’s shoulders, down his arms, takes in the dips and hills of his muscles through his shirt and wishing the clothing wasn’t there. That it was strewn across the room instead.

Armin lets his fingers glide over Eren’s ribs and the beautiful curve of his waist. “You’re right,” he repeats. “Thank you.” 

Eren hums, a soft little sound that causes blood to rush downward and encourages Armin to continue his exploration. Finding the hem of Eren’s shirt, he slips his hand underneath the fabric, runs his fingers over warm skin, and smiles at the goosebumps he feels rise there. Eren shivers against him, nuzzles deeper into the crook of his neck with a moan. Armin’s head spins with the heavy arousal aching between his legs. He’s convinced Eren does this on purpose. 

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” Eren mutters. Armin can’t help but giggle, recoiling a little as Eren’s breath against his throat tickles him again. 

“I’m really glad I have you,” Armin replies. 

Eren lifts his head finally, smiling up at him with eyes still laden with sleep. Armin feels a chill of his own shoot through his spine when Eren kisses him, sending his heart racing and limbs tingling. Eren’s mouth is hot against his own, moving slowly at first and growing more intense, more deliberate as Armin returns the kiss in earnest.

Armin could use this kind of awakening every morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I just needed to indulge myself after my own chronic migraine diagnosis. I consider this a therapeutic experience. Also...I just really love the idea of Eren helping Armin through the pain because I love angst, but don't worry. It gets super fluffy at the end because these boys own my soul. Hope you all like!


End file.
